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PORTRAIT  OF  WATTS  FROM  A PHOTOGRAPH 

Watts  was  below  medium  height  and  slightly  built,  but,  even  in  his  old  age,  erect 
of  carriage.  His  features  were  clear-cut  and  regular;  his  expression  thoughtful  and 
marked  by  the  utmost  kindliness  and  refinement.  In  appearance  he  was  eminently 
picturesque.  When  at  work  in  his  studio  he  frequently  wore  a long  loose  blouse, 
like  a carter’s  frock,  and  at  all  times  a crimson  skull  cap.  The  photograph  re- 
produced above  was  taken  by  Frederick  Hollyer,  in  London,  when  the  artist  was 
about  sixty-five  years  old. 

[22] 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


(Sreoffle  ^prcirericfe  ®8^att0 

BORN  1817:  DIED  19  04 
ENGLISH  SCHOOL 

GEORGE  FREDERICK  WATTS  was  born  in  London  on  February  23, 
1817,  of  a family  which  claimed  Welsh  descent.  His  father,  who  had  re- 
moved from  Hereford  to  London  early  in  the  century,  in  the  hope  of  bettering 
his  fortunes,  and  who  was  a man  of  scientific  tastes  and  some  inventive  faculty, 
was  by  profession  a musician,  and  added  to  his  scanty  livelihood  by  tuning 
pianos.  Of  Watts’s  boyhood  few  records  remain.  It  is  said  that  almost  as 
soon  as  he  could  talk  he  began  to  draw,  copying  when  very  young  the  quaint 
prints  in  an  old  Queen  Anne  prayer-book;  and  that  when  he  was  twelve,  fas- 
cinated by  romance  and  legendary  lore,  he  painted  a series  of  pictures  illus- 
trating scenes  from  Scott’s  ‘Waverly  Novels,’  and  made  a spirited  sketch 
of  an  incident  in  Homer’s  ‘Iliad’ — the  struggle  for  the  body  of  Patroclus. 

At  fifteen  Watts  entered  the  Academy  schools,  but  finding  the  teaching 
there  unsatisfactory,  remained  but  a few  weeks.  A fondness  for  sculpture 
then  led  him  to  the  studio  of  William  Behnes,  where  he  copied  plaster  casts 
and  watched  Behnes  at  his  work,  but  received  from  him  no  direct  instruc- 
tion. His  real  teachers,  he  always  said,  were  the  Elgin  marbles,  and  he  would 
spend  hours  in  the  British  Museum  absorbed  in  the  study  of  the  beauty  of 
those  Phidian  sculptures  which  became  his  standard  for  style  and  form. 

When  barely  twenty,  Watts  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  two  portraits 
and  a picture  entitled  ‘A  Wounded  Heron.’  Encouraged  by  their  reception, 
he  soon  afterwards  contributed  to  the  annual  exhibition  of  the  Academy  sub- 
jects from  Shakespeare  and  Boccaccio.  But  it  was  not  until  1842,  when  he 
was  twenty-five,  that  his  first  real  success  was  attained.  In  that  year  a com- 
petition was  held  in  London  for  the  decoration  of  the  halls  of  the  new  Houses 
of  Parliament,  and  Watts,  whose  name  was  then  almost  unknown,  entered 
the  lists  with  many  of  the  leading  artists  of  the  day,  and  sent  in  a cartoon  of 
‘Caractacus  led  in  Triumph  through  the  Streets  of  Rome,’  which  won  for 
him  a first-class  prize  of  £300.  This  design  was  for  some  reason  never  car- 
ried out  in  fresco,  but  with  the  competition  prize-money  he  was  enabled 
to  realize  a long-cherished  dream  of  going  to  Italy,  and  soon  afterwards 
started  on  his  travels. 

Arrived  in  Florence,  he  found  a friend  and  patron  in  Lord  Holland,  then 

[23] 


24 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


British  ambassador  at  the  court  of  Tuscany,  and  in  the  literary  and  artistic 
circle  which  was  wont  to  assemble  at  Lord  Holland’s  house,  Casa  Ferroni,  in 
the  city,  and  at  his  summer  home  among  the  hills  outside  of  Florence,  the 
young  painter  was  ever  a welcome  guest. 

Four  years  passed  before  Watts  returned  to  England — years  which  were 
by  no  means  idle,  for  although  he  did  not  spend  his  time  in  copying  the  works 
of  the  old  masters  in  the  galleries  of  Italy,  he  studied  them  in  his  own  way, 
absorbing  their  beauty,  and  finding  inspiration  in  Florentine  form  and  line, 
and  in  the  coloring  of  the  Venetians.  Portraits  of  Lord  and  Lady  Holland, 
and  of  many  of  their  distinguished  guests,  were  painted  by  him  at  this  period, 
and  on  the  walls  of  their  summer  villa,  Villa  Careggi,  he  painted  a fresco  rep- 
resenting the  execution  of  the  physician  who  was  accused  of  poisoning  his 
master,  Lorenzo  de’  Medici,  to  whom  the  villa  had  once  belonged. 

When,  in  1847,  news  was  received  from  London  that  a second  competition 
for  decorations  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  was  to  be  held,  Watts  returned 
to  England  to  again  become  a candidate.  To  his  astonishment  he  was  again 
successful,  and  a first-class  prize  of  £500  was  awarded  him  for  a large  and 
vigorous  composition  of  ‘King  Alfred  inciting  his  Subjects  to  prevent  the 
Landing  of  the  Danes.’  This  cartoon  was  bought  by  the  English  govern- 
ment, and  hung  in  a committee-room  at  Westminster,  and  Watts  was  soon 
afterwards  commissioned  to  paint  a fresco  of  ‘ St.  George  and  the  Dragon  ’ for 
the  upper  waiting-hall  of  the  House  of  Lords.  This  last  work,  begun  in  1848, 
was  not  finished  until  five  years  later.  It  may  still  be  seen,  though  injured  by 
London  fog  and  smoke,  in  the  Palace  of  Westminster. 

In  1856  Watts  again  left  England;  this  time  to  accompany  the  expedition 
sent  out  under  Sir  Charles  Newton  to  examine  and  verify  many  ancient  sites 
of  tombs  and  temples  in  Greece  and  Asia  Minor.  The  expedition  occupied  a 
year  and  a half,  and  even  after  the  return  of  the  party  to  England,  Watts, 
who  was  not  connected  with  it  in  any  official  capacity,  pursued  his  travels  in 
different  parts  of  Greece  and  Italy,  strengthening  his  love  for  classic  art  and 
his  devotion  to  Greek  sculpture. 

Not  long  after  his  return  to  England,  in  pursuance  of  a desire  that  public 
buildings  in  London  should  be  adorned  with  monumental  works  of  art  em- 
bodying lofty  thoughts,  he  offered  to  decorate  for  the  barristers  of  Lincoln  s 
Inn,  without  remuneration,  the  north  side  of  their  great  dining-hall,  with  a 
fresco  representing  ‘The  School  of  Legislature.’  This  work,  the  largest  and 
finest  of  its  kind  in  England,  was  completed  in  1859,  and,  as  a mark  of  their 
appreciation  of  his  labors,  the  barristers  presented  Watts  with  £500  and  a 
gold  cup.  The  artist’s  generosity  and  public  spirit,  however,  met  elsewhere 
with  less  cordial  reception,  and  his  offer  to  decorate  at  his  own  expense  the 
large  hall  at  Euston  Station  with  a series  of  frescos  illustrating  the  progress 
of  the  world  was  rejected  by  the  directors  of  the  railway. 

Disappointed  in  his  attempt  to  set  forth  his  conceptions  on  a colossal  scale 
in  fresco,  Watts  turned  his  attention  to  the  execution  of  paintings  which 
should  express  the  great  truths  he  felt  it  to  be  the  mission  of  art  to  promul- 
gate. “I  want  to  teach  people  how  to  live,’  he  would  say,  how  to  make  use 

[24] 


WATTS 


25 


of  all  their  powers,  to  work,  and  hope,  and  enjoy  life;  not  to  be  mere  slave's 
and  drudges,  but  to  care  for  something  higher  than  money-making  and  self- 
ish pleasure.” 

For  many  years  Watts  exhibited  regularly  at  the  Royal  Academy,  and  no- 
table exhibitions  of  his  works  were  often  held  at  the  Grosvenor  Gallery  and 
the  New  Gallery,  London.  In  1884-85  some  fifty  of  his  pictures  were  sent  to 
this  country  and  shown  at  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York.  From  the 
time  when  he  began  to  paint  regularly  in  London  it  becomes  difficult  to  fol- 
low him  chronologically,  for  it  was  his  custom  to  keep  a picture  on  hand  for 
many  years,  occupying  himself  with  several  designs  at  the  same  time,  work- 
ing at  each  one  little  by  little  according  to  his  mood  or  fancy.  His  large  can- 
vas of  ‘The  Court  of  Death,’  for  instance,  was  in  his  studio  for  many  years, 
and  was  exhibited  in  1896-97  in  an  unfinished  state,  only  receiving  the  final 
touches  and  the  artist’s  signature  on  his  eighty-sixth  birthday. 

It  was  as  a portrait-painter  that  Watts’s  reputation  was  primarily  achieved. 
Compelled  in  the  first  place  to  devote  himself  to  portraiture  in  order  to  gain 
a living,  he  always  declared  that  attention  to  this  branch  of  art  was  the  best 
discipline  for  an  imaginative  painter,  and  when  it  was  no  longer  necessary  to 
do  so  gladly  turned  from  his  ideal  subjects  to  paint  those  portraits  which 
alone  would  have  made  his  name  famous.  Many  of  these  are  portrayals  of 
men  eminent  in  every  walk  of  life — statesmen,  lawyers,  artists,  musicians, 
men  of  letters  and  divines — whom  the  painter  himself  asked  to  sit  for  him 
that  he  might  give  to  the  English  nation  presentments  of  the  leading  men  of 
his  century.  A collection  of  these  portraits,  the  gift  of  the  artist,  is  now  in  the 
National  Portrait  Gallery,  London,  while  to  the  National  Gallery  of  British 
Art  (Tate  Gallery),  Watts  presented  more  than  twenty  of  the  finest  of  his 
allegorical,  or  ideal,  subjects.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  ‘ I he  Mino- 
taur,’ ‘Mammon,’  ‘Love  and  Death,’  ‘Love  and  Life,’  ‘ I he  Dweller  in  the 
Innermost,’  ‘The  Messenger,’  ‘Time,  Death,  and  Judgment,’  and  ‘Hope.’ 

The  indifference  shown  for  many  years  by  the  general  public  towards  this 
latter  form  of  his  art — a form  in  which  he  had  so  firm  and  unshaken  a faith 
as  the  only  kind  to  elevate  the  tone  of  English  painting — never  embittered  his 
spirit  nor  caused  him  to  swerve  from  his  high  purpose  of  raising  the  art  of  his 
country  to  the  lofty  level  of  her  history  and  literature.  The  most  modest  of 
men,  desirous  ever  of  self-effacement,  he  was  yet  always  ready  and  eager  to 
serve  the  public  by  giving  freely  of  those  works  which  he  had  painted,  because, 
as  he  himself  simply  expressed  it,  “he  had  something  to  say.” 

In  a life  so  wholly  devoted  to  art  as  was  that  of  Watts,  so  marked  by  single- 
ness of  purpose  and  absorption  in  carrying  out  the  ideals  he  had  set  before 
himself — a life,  moreover,  almost  monastic  in  its  simplicity,  regularity,  and 
seclusion  from  the  outside  world — there  is  but  little  in  the  way  of  incident 
to  relate.  He  was  beloved  by  his  friends,  of  whom  he  had  many,  and  rev- 
erenced by  all  who  knew  him,  but  he  never  cared  for  society  as  that  term  is 
popularly  understood. 

His  marriage  to  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  the  actress,  in  comparatively  early  life, 
was  dissolved  shortly  after  it  had  taken  place,  and  in  1886  he  married  Miss 

[25] 


26 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


Mary  Fraser-Tytler,  of  Inverness-shire — a marriage  which  brought  rare 
happiness  into  his  life. 

Nearly  half  of  each  year  Watts  spent  at  Little  Holland  House,  his  home 
in  Melbury  Road,  Kensington,  London,  where  a gallery  containing  many  of 
his  famous  works  was  open  to  the  public  on  every  Saturday  and  Sunday 
throughout  the  late  spring  and  summer.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  first  chilly 
days  of  autumn  came,  the  painter  would  go  to  his  other  home,  Limners- 
lease,  a picturesque  house  near  Compton,  among  the  Surrey  hills.  In  this 
quiet  spot  he  carried  on  his  work,  rising  very  early  in  the  morning,  as  was  his 
custom,  and  frequently  beginning  to  paint  before  four  o’clock,  so  that  by  noon 
he  would  have  accomplished  an  ordinary  day’s  work.  His  method  of  painting 
was  unusual.  His  colors  were  ground  especially  for  him  and  kept  dry  in  jars 
ready  for  use  when  needed,  when  they  were  mixed  with  the  requisite  quantity 
of  linseed-oil  diluted  with  some  essential  oil.  He  laid  his  tints  on  thick  and 
dry,  one  alongside  of  another  like  mosaic,  mingling  them  at  the  edges  but 
never  putting  light  or  bright  colors  over  darker  ones,  in  order  that  in  course 
of  time  the  brilliancy  of  the  background  should  show  through  and  his  paint- 
ings acquire  the  qualities  of  stained  glass.  He  made,  we  are  told,  no  prepara- 
tory studies  for  his  pictures,  but,  having  thought  out  his  subject,  sketched  it 
at  once  upon  the  canvas  with  his  brush,  making  use  of  no  palette  nor  mahl- 
stick,  nor,  indeed,  in  many  cases,  of  any  model  to  help  him;  and  if,  as  in  his 
portraits,  a model  were  before  him,  refraining  from  strict  adherence  to  the  ac- 
tual, lest  by  a close  study  of  the  body  the  spirit  should  be  lost,  which  in  his 
estimation  counted  for  more  than  any  technical  excellence. 

In  spite  of  a delicate  constitution,  indeed,  according  to  his  own  statement, 
because  of  it  (for  his  realization  of  physical  limitations  had  early  taught  him 
the  necessity  of  careful  living),  Watts  was  able  to  accomplish  far  more  than 
many  men  of  strong  physique.  Although  obliged  to  avoid  violent  exercise,  he 
was,  until  within  a few  years  of  his  death,  an  admirable  horseman,  and  spent 
much  time  in  the  open  air,  riding  and  walking.  He  was  abstemious  in  regard 
to  food  and  drink  and  never  smoked,  always  claiming  that  greater  things  had 
been  accomplished  in  the  world  before  the  discovery  of  tobacco  than  had  been 
done  since. 

As  a host  he  was  delightful;  no  one  of  the  many  visitors  at  Little  Holland 
House  or  Limnerslease  failed  to  find  a welcome,  nor  left  without  being  im- 
pressed by  the  power  and  charm  of  his  personality.  A gifted  conversation- 
alist, his  manners  were  of  the  old  school — truly  courtly — and  well  merited 
for  him  the  title  “the  Signor,”  by  which  he  was  affectionately  known  among 
his  friends. 

From  time  to  time  Watts  turned  his  attention  to  sculpture,  for  which  he 
had  always  had  a fondness.  Of  his  works  in  this  direction  a bust  of  Clytie, 
a large  equestrian  statue  of  Hugh  Lupus,  the  early  ancestor  of  the  Grosvenors, 
and  a striking  group  entitled  ‘ Physical  Energy,’  which  when  cast  in  bronze 
will  be  placed  on  the  grave  of  Cecil  Rhodes  in  Africa,  are  among  the  most 
prominent. 

Of  public  and  official  recognition  a larger  share  came  to  Watts  than  a man 

[26] 


WATTS 


27 


so  retiring  by  nature  could  desire.  In  1867  he  was  elected  an  Associate  and 
in  the  same  year  a full  member  of  the  Royal  Academy,  an  honor  which  his 
disinclination  for  personal  notice  at  first  caused  him  to  decline,  but  which  he 
was  finally  prevailed  upon  to  accept.  From  Oxford  he  received  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Civil  Law;  from  Cambridge  that  of  Doctor  of  Laws.  France  con- 
ferred upon  him  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor;  Italy  made  him  a knight 
of  the  Order  of  San  Luigi.  Twice  a baronetcy  in  England  was  offered  to  him, 
but  each  time  firmly  and  with  all  respect  declined.  It  was  only  when  the  Order 
of  Merit  was  established,  on  the  coronation  of  King  Edward  vn.,  that  he 
could  be  induced  to  accept  any  mark  of  public  honor  from  his  country. 

To  the  last  Watts  was  actively  engaged  with  his  art,  and  not  until  he  had 
counted  full  eighty-seven  years  did  the  end  come.  After  an  illness  of  only  a 
few  days  he  died  very  peacefully,  of  bronchitis,  on  July  1,  1904,  at  his  home 
Little  Holland  House,  Kensington. 

A memorial  service  was  held  in  St.  Paul’s  Cathedral,  London,  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  painter’s  expressed  wish,  his  body  was  cremated,  and  his  ashes 
buried  in  the  cemetery  at  Compton  near  his  favorite  Surrey  home  of  Lim- 
nerslease. 


%l)t  91rt  of  W&ttQ 

MY  intention  has  not  been  so  much  to  paint  pictures  that  will  charm  the 
eye  as  to  suggest  great  thoughts  that  will  appeal  to  the  imagination 
and  the  heart,  and  kindle  all  that  is  best  and  noblest  in  humanity. — george 
FREDERICK  WATTS 

M.  H.  SPIELMANN  ‘NINETEENTH  CENTURY’  1897 

IT  must  be  recognized  at  the  outset  that  if  Watts’s  art  is  to  be  understood  — 
I do  not  say  in  the  first  instance,  accepted  — his  particular  standpoint,  both 
artistic  and  philosophic,  must  be  made  clear.  From  the  beginning  his  prin- 
ciples have  never  swerved — principles  that  include  the  restoration  of  art  to 
her  true  and  noblest  function,  and  the  personal  self-sacrifice  of  every  worker 
in  the  commonwealth  for  the  common  good.  While  denying  to  mere  tech- 
nical dexterity  the  supremacy  over  intellectual  qualities  which  it  has  usurped, 
he  has  held — and  spent  his  life  in  demonstrating — that  it  is  in  the  power  of 
paint  to  stir  in  man  something  more  sublime  than  is  possible  to  a simple  sen- 
suous appreciation  of  tones  and  values,  color  and  line;  and  while  himself  seek- 
ing these  things  in  the  highest  perfection  possible  to  him,  he  has  sought  to  ex- 
press in  painter-language  the  thoughts  and  emotions  that  occupy  Ins  mind.  . . . 

“Art,”  exclaimed  Paul  Verlaine  in  an  oracular  moment  to  his  disciples, 
“is  the  being  absolutely  oneself.”  The  epigram  is  incomplete;  but  so  far  as 
it  goes  it  may  be  applied  to  the  art  of  Watts.  Whether  noble  or  ignoble,  we 
usually  take  a long  while  to  find  ourselves  out  sufficiently  to  become,  even 
should  we  dare,  “absolutely  ourselves.”  Put  Watts  succeeded  early,  and  has 

[271 


28 


MASTERS  I N ART 


been  so  much  “himself”  that  all  schools  and  movements  from  preraphael- 
itism  to  impressionism,  he  has  seen  come  and  go,  and  has  remained  un- 
touched by  any  one  of  them  — still  less  concerned  by  any  passing  fashion, 
though  greatly  moved  by  waves  of  genuine  feeling  passing  over  the  nation. 
These  considerations  cannot,  of  course,  blind  us  to  faults  or  stifle  criticism, 
for  all  the  sense  of  noble  patriotism  they  convey;  but  they  exact  nevertheless 
a more  respectful  attention  for  the  purely  spiritual  claims  of  his  work  than  the 
young  bloods  whose  cry  is  “Art  for  Art”  are  usually  willing  to  allow. 

Aspiration  and  intention  — these  claim  the  first  consideration  of  Watts.  If 
the  thought  to  be  worked  out  in  a picture  be  but  elevating  and  ennobling,  the 
subject  and  even  the  work  itself  are  regarded  as  of  relatively  little  importance; 
they  are  his  sign-posts  to  the  thought  to  be  expressed.  Then  and  only  then 
is  his  concern  awakened  to  composition  of  line  and  rhythmic  beauty,  and  to 
nobility  and  character  of  form,  with  due  reference  to  artistic  principles — for 
it  is  fitting  that  the  sign-posts  be  fashioned  as  perfect  as  possible.  Finally, 
color,  harmony,  and  dignity  are  imported,  that  the  work  may  result  in  a mon- 
umental whole.  But  the  picture  resulting  is  not  necessarily  allegorical;  it  is, 
more  accurately  speaking,  suggestive.  . . . 

Years  ago  Mr.  Ruskin  declared  that  Watts  was  the  one  painter  of  thought 
and  history  in  England.  But  the  artist  in  a measure  repudiates  the  implied 
compliment.  He  makes  no  claim  to  be  a painter  of  history;  for  history-paint- 
ing is  not  much  more  than  elaborate  genre,  resulting  in  what  are  practically 
“ costume  pieces,”  that  leave  us  cold,  if  not  indifferent.  He  is  never,  therefore, 
historical  in  the  accepted  sense.  Literary  he  may  be;  but  even  then  not  simply 
narrative;  and  he  always  maintains  the  artistic  and  poetic  sense.  Yet,  what- 
ever his  deserts,  Watts  seems  to  care  little  for  consideration  as  an  artist  at  all 
— nor  as  a preacher  either,  nor  as  a teacher.  He  is  rather  a thinker  who 
would  have  all  men  think  for  themselves;  a man  of  noble  dreams  who  would 
have  those  dreams  reality;  a seer  to  whom  nature  has  been  but  partially  kind 
in  bestowing  on  him  the  gift  of  elevated  conception  which  he  would  rather  put 
into  words  with  the  pen  than  with  the  brush  translate  them  into  form.  To 
that  cause  perhaps  we  must  attribute  his  passionate  desire  to  raise  painting, 
intellectually,  to  the  side  of  poetry,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  combat  the  idea 
that  “Art  for  Art”  is  the  only  principle,  or  even  the  best.  “I  do  not  deny,” 
he  wrote  to  me  many  years  ago  on  this  very  subject,  “ that  beautiful  technique 
is  sufficient  to  constitute  an  extremely  valuable  achievement;  but  it  can  never 
alone  place  a work  of  art  on  the  level  of  the  highest  effort  in  poetry;  and  by 
this  it  should  stand.  That  any  work  of  mine  can  do  this  I do  not  for  a moment 
claim;  no  one  knows  better  than  I do  how  defective  all  my  efforts  are.  But  I 
cannot  give  up  the  hope  that  a direction  is  indicated  not  unworthy,  and  that 
a vein  of  poetical  and  intellectual  suggestion  is  laid  bare  which  may  be  worked 
with  more  effect  by  some  who  will  come  after.”  . . . 

No  section  of  Watts’s  art,  it  seems  to  me,  illustrates  more  completely  his 
strength  and  his  limitations  than  that  of  portraiture.  It  is  universally  allowed 
that  in  portrait-painting  realism  is  the  dominant  note;  so  that,  as  Watts  is  be- 
yond all  else  an  idealist,  it  might  have  been  supposed  that  his  greatest  quality 

[28] 


WATTS 


29 


might  have  presented  itself  as  an  insuperable  defect.  The  fact  is,  however,  that 
the  word  “ realism  ” is  a term  a good  deal  misused  and  misapplied.  It  has  been 
usurped  by  the  modern  French  school  and  appropriated  generally  by  an  as- 
pect of  art  so  different  from  that  not  only  of  Watts,  but  equally  of  the  whole 
healthy  tendency  of  the  English  school,  that  for  distinction’s  sake  the  quality 
of  his  portraiture  may  best  be  expressed  by  the  paradoxical  term  of  “ideal 
realism,”  and  so  cast  into  danger  of  being  confounded  with  “idealism”  pure 
and  simple. 

The  lights  and  shadows  that  played  upon  the  face  in  the  searching  studio- 
light,  the  wrinkle  on  the  forehead,  and  the  wart  upon  the  cheek  would  not 
suffice  to  satisfy  the  more  thoughtful  quality  of  Watts’s  mind.  While  accord- 
ing to  facial  resemblance  all  it  is  in  his  power  to  render,  he  aims  chiefly  at 
realizing  his  sitters’  habits  of  thought,  dispositions,  and  characters,  as  these 
might  reveal  themselves  upon  their  faces.  His  work  in  portraiture,  therefore, 
shows  a strongly  marked  individuality  of  an  impersonal  kind.  It  has  become 
sculpturesque  and  monumental  in  character,  and  rich  in  beauty,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  the  painter  has  never  stooped  to  use  that  most  popular  of  all  por- 
trait-painters’ color-mediums — flattery.  . . . 

Although  symbolism  is  Watts’s  most  obvious  characteristic,  it  is  the  char- 
acteristic not  of  the  painter,  but  of  the  thinker.  If  he  were  told,  as  in  fact  he 
often  has  been  told,  that  his  work  is  literary,  symbolic,  and  not  to  be  judged 
as  “art”  at  all,  he  would  assuredly  accept  the  judgment  as  welcome  praise. 
The  painter’s  craft,  pure  and  simple,  is  to  him  the  craft  of  the  painter  and 
nothing  more,  and  its  skill,  something  to  employ  to  good,  and  not  to  little 
purpose. 

It  is  one  of  the  greatest  merits  of  his  pictures  that  they  are  almost  elemental 
in  their  simplicity,  and  that  in  whatever  quarter  they  may  be  exhibited  they 
attract  alike  the  cultivated  and  the  uneducated.  It  is  not  only  that  there  is  a 
strong  feeling  among  the  populace  for  the  ideal,  the  elevated,  and  the  alle- 
gorical; it  is  also  that  his  art  contains  in  itself  so  many  sympathetic  ele- 
ments. It  is  Greek  in  its  philosophic  spirit  and  in  its  display  of  material 
beauty,  and  Christian  in  its  clear  appeal  to  man’s  righteousness  and  love. 

It  is  to  be  observed — a remarkable  circumstance  in  a painter  who  has  de- 
voted a lifetime  to  ethical  and  religious  thought — that  he  has  never  dealt  with 
dogma  or  doctrine.  So  unsectarian  is  he  that  he  has  always  avoided  in  his 
work  even  the  ordinary  theological  emblems  and  symbols;  indeed,  not  so  much 
as  a cross  is  to  be  seen  in  any  of  his  pictures.  He  paints  Righteousness,  but 
not  Religion;  and  personifies  Sin,  but  never  as  the  Devil. 

“You  must  not  speak  of  my  ‘theology,’”  he  said  once,  when  I let  fall  the 
word;  “it  should  rather  be  called  religious  philosophy.  For  I do  not  admit 
that  reason  can  be  banished  at  the  behest  of  belief.”  It  is  wholly  absurd  to 
suggest  that  he  is  a “mystic,”  as  he  is  sometimes  reproached  with  living,  lie 
doubtless  believes  that  there  is  something  mysterious — the  spirit  of  a great 
Creator — in  all  living  things,  and  most  of  all  in  man  as  the  greatest  in  crea- 
tion, dowered  with  the  greatest  brain  power  and  intellect.  “ It  may  shock 
you,”  he  said  on  another  occasion,  “but  I feel  that  one  creed  is  as  good  as 

[29] 


30 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


another,  and  that  Nature,  Divinity,  Humanity,  are  to  me  almost  convertible 
terms.” 

From  this  philosophic  love  of  humanity  springs  the  fervid,  almost  passion- 
ate, earnestness  with  which  he  seeks  to  combat  the  Greek  idea  of  Death — of 
Death  the  Destroyer;  of  the  grim  and  grisly  specter  of  Diirer’s  ‘Dance.’  His 
obvious  aim  has  been  to  impress  us  with  a theme  to  which  he  returns  again 
and  again  in  his  more  lofty  compositions,  giving  us,  not  Death  itself,  but  rather 
the  Angel  of  Death — inevitable,  inexorable,  irresistible,  but  stripped  of  the 
dread  and  horror  with  which  painters  have  loved  to  invest  it.  . . . 

Into  the  technique  of  Watts’s  painting  it  is  not  needful  here  to  enter,  either 
to  criticize  or  describe.  But  in  explanation,  not  in  excuse,  of  the  artist’s  occa- 
sional departure  from  academic  proportions  (which  many  decry  as  one  of  the 
seven  cardinal  sins  in  art)  it  may  be  said  that,  while  correct  anatomy  and  ex- 
cellence of  figure-drawing  are  no  more  despised  by  him  than  by  any  other 
master,  accuracy,  as  such,  occupying  his  attention  in  a minor  degree  than  the 
main  lines  of  his  composition,  must  yield,  if  it  clash,  to  the  dominating  sig- 
nificance of  the  work. 

There  are  qualities  in  his  pictures  to  be  looked  for  other  than  the  purity 
and  range  of  color — the  variety  of  texture  which  is  needed  to  support  the 
movement  of  light  and  atmosphere,  the  broken  surface,  which  other  artists 
so  carefully  avoid,  the  outline  which  is  never  insisted  on,  and  is  only  lost  to 
be  found  again,  and,  above  all,  that  mystery  which  as  a quality  in  painting  is 
the  one  vital  superiority  which  modern  art  can  boast  over  that  of  the  great 
masters  of  old. 

Watts’s  art  is  the  picture  of  his  life;  a life  in  which  independence  of  char- 
acter and  elevated  thought  throw  into  relief  the  highest  philanthropy  and  pa- 
triotism of  the  perfect  citizen;  a life  which  is  sustained  in  its  sad  outlook  upon 
the  grim  and  threatening  future  by  a simple  faith  in  his  fellow-man,  like  the 
star  shining  in  his  picture  of ‘Ararat,’  or  the  lyre-string  answering  to  the  maid- 
en’s touch  in  his  masterpiece  of ‘Hope.’ 

ROYAL  CORTISSOZ  ‘THE  NORTH  AMERICAN  REVIEW’  1904 

WATTS  was  the  one  painter  of  his  time  in  England  to  whom  the  idea  was 
a controlling  force,  so  saturating  his  art,  in  all  its  relations,  that  you 
could  not  approach  him  in  any  of  his  moods  without  instantly  realizing  that 
he  had  something  to  say  to  you,  and  that  this  something  supplied  the  picture 
in  question  with  its  chief  reason  for  existing.  None  of  his  fellow-countrymen, 
with  the  possible  exception  of  William  Blake,  ever  conveyed  quite  the  same 
impression  of  art  surcharged  with  thought.  Men  like  Leighton,  Burne-Jones, 
Rossetti,  and  Millais  seem  beside  him  the  merest  story-tellers.  The  only  point 
which  he  ever  had  in  common  with  them  was  an  inability  to  acquire  complete 
technical  proficiency.  In  all  other  respects  he  occupied  a place  apart,  exer- 
cising unique  power  in  the  creation  of  beautiful  and  significant  images,  every 
one  of  them  stamped  with  the  quality  of  his  brain  and  appealing  to  us  as  sym- 
bols, not  as  painted  things.  . . . 

Watts  must  be  considered  largely  as  an  isolated  phenomenon,  if  the  true 

[30] 


WATTS 


3 1 

outlines  of  his  artistic  character  are  to  be  apprehended.  There  is  nothing  in  his 
style  that  can  be  identified  as  due  to  the  influence  of  this  or  that  master.  In 
his  youth  he  had  no  instruction  that  amounted  to  anything,  either  in  the  draw- 
ing-school of  the  Royal  Academy,  which  he  attended  for  a time,  or  in  the  stu- 
dio of  the  sculptor  William  Behnes,  which  he  entered  as  a kind  of  observer. 
The  Elgin  marbles  are  said  to  have  made  a deep  impression  upon  him,  but 
they  did  not  make  him  a classicist.  When  he  obtained  a prize  in  a public 
competition  with  a decorative  design,  and  used  the  money  to  go  to  Italy,  he 
stayed  there  four  years  without  transforming  himself  into  a neo-Italian.  Yet, 
if  we  are  not  to  make  his  originality  too  unnatural  a thing,  but  must  link  him 
somewhere  with  the  masters  of  painting,  it  is  to  the  great  Venetians  that  I 
should  say  he  was,  in  a measure,  akin. 

He  understood  and,  I believe,  loved  their  language,  their  large  stately  way 
of  putting  things,  and  their  heroic  but  restrained  passion.  Form,  in  his  eyes, 
as  in  theirs,  took  on  a certain  grandeur,  was  marmoreal  and  even  hierophantic. 
Moreover,  for  him,  as  for  them,  it  was  of  little  worth,  save  in  so  far  as  it  lent 
itself  to  the  more  nobly  dramatic  issues  of  the  imaginative  world.  . . . 

For  a man  untrained  in  the  schools,  Watts  had  an  extraordinary  command 
over  plastic  forms,  and  could,  indeed,  mold  them  to  his  purposes  with  an  au- 
thority greater  than  that  of  many  a skilled  Academician.  It  was  not  in  the 
subtleties  of  modeling  that  he  excelled.  On  the  contrary,  his  surfaces  were  apt 
to  be  coarsely  handled;  his  contours  were  roughly  generalized,  rather  than  ex- 
quisitely drawn,  and  his  flesh-tints  were  notoriously  muddy.  But  in  the  broad 
massing  of  forms  he  was  a master;  in  flinging  the  sinewy  limbs  of  his  men  into 
just  the  right  attitudes,  in  lending  to  his  mighty  deep-bosomed  women  an  air 
like  that  of  Michelangelo’s  solemn  Amazons,  he  was  not  only  powerful  but 
fluent.  You  feel  that  the  man  who  could  treat  the  human  figure  in  this  fashion, 
nude  or  draped,  had  an  almost  Greek  delight,  and  skill,  in  solving  the  most 
difficult  of  all  artistic  problems.  Only,  for  the  joy  of  the  Greek  in  the  beauty 
of  form  as  an  end  in  itself,  we  have,  in  Watts,  an  essentially  modern  perturba- 
tion of  soul,  a constant  concern  for  the  emotions  under  which  these  sentient 
beings,  whose  bodies  he  delineates  with  so  facile  a hand,  may  be  laboring  as 
he  paints  them.  Nay,  they  must  quiver  with  emotion,  else  he  cannot  paint 
them  at  all.  We  have  seen  how  he  avoided  practical  study  of  the  nude,  how 
the  Elgin  marbles  took  the  place  of  the  living  models  in  his  experience.  One 
feels,  vaguely,  in  studying  his  work,  that  in  his  eyes  the  portrayal  of  the  human 
form  for  its  own  sake  must  have  seemed  a kind  of  sacrilege.  No;  for  him  the 
heroes  of  mythology  or  of  Scripture,  the  figures  he  drew  from  old  or  modern 
literature,  and  those  in  which  he  embodied  his  own  reflections  on  life  and 
death,  were  symbols  or  nothing.  This  is  to  be  regretted  in  so  far  as  it  placed 
a drag  upon  his  technical  advancement;  but  it  is  to  be  valued,  on  the  other 
hand,  for  the  stimulus  that  it  must  have  given  to  his  inventive  faculty.  Eager 
to  pack  his  art  with  meaning,  and  too  original,  as  he  was  too  lofty  of  mind,  to 
rely  on  lifeless  accessories  for  the  elucidation  of  his  idea,  he  made  that  plastic 
gift  to  which  I have  referred  a means  to  a spiritual  end,  giving  to  form  an  elo- 
quence all  his  own.  . . . 


[311 


32 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


Once,  in  the  catalogue  to  an  exhibition  of  his,  he  said:  “The  great  majority 
of  these  works  must  be  regarded  rather  as  hieroglyphs  than  anything  else,  cer- 
tainly not  as  more  than  symbols,  which  all  art  was  in  the  beginning,  and  which 
everything  is  that  is  not  directly  connected  with  physical  conditions.”  I dare 
say  that,  with  this  seeming  warrant,  there  will  not  be  wanting  expositors,  by 
and  by,  to  tell  us  all  manner  of  things  about  what  this  man  of  dreams  and  deep 
thought  put  into  his  pictures.  But  there  does  not  really  seem  to  be  anything 
very  dark  about  his  “hieroglyphs.”  Take  almost  any  of  his  pictures,  ‘Char- 
ity,’ ‘The  Throne  of  Death,’  ‘Diana  and  Endymion,’  ‘The  Death  of  Abel,’ 
‘Mammon,’  ‘The  Minotaur,’  ‘Sir  Galahad,’  ‘Love  and  Death,’  and  so  on 
through  the  long  list.  I do  not  pretend  that  every  one  of  them  is  an  open  book. 
But,  taking  Watts’s  mythological,  allegorical,  and  illustrative  designs  all  to- 
gether, there  is  surprisingly  little  mysticism  in  them;  they  are  never  wilfully 
obscure;  they  stand,  first  and  last,  for  the  effort  of  a noble  spirit  to  comfort 
and  cheer  mankind  with  fine  ideas,  set  forth  in  direct  fashion.  Incidentally, 
the  artist — since  he  is,  after  all,  an  artist  as  well  as  a teacher — will  exert  the 
charm  of  beautiful  form  and  monumental  design.  Incidentally,  though  he  has 
not  the  gift  of  color,  but  is,  on  the  contrary,  always  at  odds  with  his  palette,  and 
cannot  help  leaving  his  tones  stringy  and  impure,  without  any  of  the  luminos- 
ity which  one  feels  the  gods  ought  to  have  granted  him,  he  will  do  his  best  to 
throw  a sensuous  glamour  over  his  canvas.  But,  above  all,  he  will  enforce 
upon  you  the  sublimity  of  life  and  death,  the  magic  of  poetry,  the  thought  and 
feeling  that  makes  art  always,  in  the  last  resort,  a matter  of  humanity  as  well 
as  of  paint  and  brushes. 

If  these  preoccupations  of  his  tell  constantly  in  his  pictures,  they  are  hardly 
less  effective  in  his  portraits,  which  are  so  clearly  works  “of  the  center,”  so 
rich  in  the  qualities  of  the  painter  for  whom  surfaces  are  only  veils  but  dimly 
hiding  the  soul  beneath,  that  they  would  have  given  him  the  rank  he  enjoyed 
even  if  he  had  never  painted  anything  else.  . . . 

Some  of  his  early  portraits  recall  the  French  Academicians  of  the  time. 
The  savor  of  formalism  in  them  is  in  curious  contrast  to  the  intellectual  vitality 
they  possess.  Watts  was  not  long,  however,  in  broadening  his  method,  and 
the  tendency  in  the  great  mass  of  portraiture  by  which  he  is  chiefly  known  to- 
day, the  fruit  of  his  riper  years,  is  all  in  the  direction  of  bolder  modeling  and 
looser  brushwork.  He  gives  a profounder  rendering  of  structure,  and  envelops 
it  in  a richer  atmosphere.  From  the  start  he  seems  to  have  gravitated  toward 
types  of  mature  and  brilliant  manhood,  rather  than  toward  feminine  charm. 
When  he  did  execute  portraits  of  women,  he  made  them  like  his  portraits  of 
men,  studies  of  character,  wasting  no  time  or  energy  on  the  petty  effects  so 
dear  to  the  fashionable  portrait-painter.  One  among  the  comparatively  small 
number  of  these  paintings,  the  famous  full-length  of  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Percy 
Wyndham,  is  a portrait  of  the  modern  grande  dame,  which  for  dignity  and 
high-bred  sentiment  might  stand  beside  the  historic  canvases  of  the  Venetian 
school.  . . . But  for  the  fullest  measure  of  Watts’s  genius  as  a portrait-painter, 
we  must  still  go  to  that  wonderful  array  of  canvases  in  which  he  commemo- 
rates the  statesmen,  poets,  and  other  public  men  of  the  Victorian  era. 

[32] 


WATTS 


33 


He  was  their  “limner  in  extraordinary,’’  the  interpreter  of  their  genius,  and, 
so  far  as  their  personalities  were  concerned,  the  custodian  of  their  fame.  He 
had  it  in  his  hand  to  send  his  sitters  down  to  posterity  as  so  many  “frail  ten- 
ements of  clay,”  or  as  the  embodiment  of  certain  qualities  of  mind  or  soul;  and 
somehow,  in  spite  of  the  technical  limitations  which  always  hampered  him,  he 
followed  with  remarkable  success  the  course  which  his  idealistic  nature  inevi- 
tably dictated  to  him.  . . . 

In  thus  creating  permanent  memorials  of  the  great  Englishmen  of  his  time, 
he  not  only  put  the  individual  in  his  debt,  but  laid  the  nation  under  a heavy 
obligation,  and  it  is  perhaps  worth  while  to  ask  what  his  countrymen  did  to 
show  their  gratitude. 

They  praised  him  without  stint.  They  freely  accepted  the  gifts  he  made  to 
more  than  one  public  institution,  his  splendid  addition  to  the  stores  of  the 
National  Portrait  Gallery  being  received  with  positive  enthusiasm.  Twice  a 
baronetcy  was  offered  to  him  — only  to  be  refused  on  both  occasions.  The 
Academy  was  quick  to  honor  itself  in  honoring  him,  and  he  was  not  without 
the  usual  official  recognition,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  which  an  artist  of  his 
distinction  would  be  bound  to  receive.  Yet  England  never  gave  him  the  oppor- 
tunity to  paint  upon  the  walls  of  her  public  buildings  those  colossal  decora- 
tions in  which  his  genius  might,  perhaps,  have  found  its  best  outlet.  . . . Are 
the  English  to  be  blamed  ? To  approach  this  point  is  to  approach  the  whole 
question  of  Watts’s  standing  as  an  artist,  to  ask  whether  he  was  one  of  those 
commanding  geniuses  who  enforce  themselves  upon  their  age,  or  one  of  the 
less  fortunate  men  in  whose  characters  there  are  hiatuses,  imperfections,  lim- 
itations, which  act  forever  as  bars  to  the  achievement  of  unquestioned  fame. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Watts  belonged  to  this  latter  class,  and  it  is  juster, 
I think,  frankly  to  recognize  that  fact  than  to  criticize  the  English  for  leaving 
a talent  unexploited  at  their  gates. 

Great  he  was,  with  the  greatness  of  a fine  intellect  and  a pure  imagination; 
his  moral  fervor  reacted  upon  his  work  with  results  that  it  would  be  silly  to 
group  with  those  of  the  ordinary  painter  of  didactic  anecdotes;  and  all  through 
the  tangible  fabrics  of  his  creating,  in  the  dramatic  sweep  of  his  design,  and 
in  the  nobility  of  his  forms,  you  discern  a beauty  that  has  the  accent  of  great- 
ness upon  it.  But  Watts  was  not  a great  painter;  he  did  not  reach  in  drawing, 
modeling,  and  color  the  plane  of  the  great  masters,  and  without  that  uplift  he 
failed,  necessarily,  to  impose  himself  absolutely  upon  his  generation,  to  bend 
his  countrymen  to  his  will,  or  to  found  a school. 

ROBFRT  DE  LA  SIZERANNF.  ‘ENGLISH  CONTEMPORARY  ART’ 

WATTS  once  said  to  a friend,  “I  paint  ideas,  not  things.’  1 he  saying 
requires  definition.  Ideas,  if  they  are  not  the  whole  of  art,  are  the 
whole  of  Watts.  They  have  inspired  his  career;  they  arc  his  reason  for  ex- 
istence. If  he  paints,  it  is  not  for  his  own  pleasure,  nor  for  that  of  others.  1 le 
paints  to  serve  his  generation.  He  paints  to  teach  cockneys  morality,  and  to 
make  club-men  consider  their  destinies.  It  is  as  if  an  angel  had  come  down 
from  heaven  and  said  to  him,  “Work!  No  matter  if  your  pictures  are  bad, 

f33] 


34 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


you  must  save  souls.”  For  the  proper  mission  of  art  is  to  urge  men  to  higher 
things  and  thoughts,  and,  to  fulfil  this  mission,  the  artist  strives  to  incarnate 
in  his  art  an  echo  of  the  vital  interests  of  life;  something  that  may  suggest 
more  to  human  nature  as  a whole  than  the  purely  artistic  conception  of  his 
subject.  . . . 

And  not  only  in  his  subject  and  in  the  aim  he  pursues,  but  still  more  by  the 
method  he  employs,  is  Watts  an  idealist.  He  is  guided  in  everything  by  ideas, 
not  by  things;  not  by  the  idea  of  beauty,  but  of  appropriateness,  of  dignity,  of 
stability.  He  never  chooses  a subject  for  mere  beauty  of  form,  for  he  does  not 
consider  form  in  the  first  place. 

His  drawing  and  coloring  are  also  governed  by  his  independent  ideas  of  the 
impressions  made  by  art.  For  serious  subjects  he  employs  serious  coloring, 
and  for  other  subjects  different  tones.  Then,  as  it  is  not  fitting  that  eternal 
truths  should  be  expressed  in  language  that  fades  like  the  grass  of  the  field,  he 
proscribes  all  mediums,  all  dilutions  of  the  oils  or  of  any  other  substance,  all 
mixtures  of  colors,  of  the  durability  of  which  he  is  not  assured.  He  lays  his 
colors  on  dry  and  clean  without  moistening  them,  touch  by  touch,  stroke  by 
stroke,  as  in  pastels.  No  matter  if  it  looks  less  well;  it  is  more  lasting.  His 
drawing  is  even  more  inspired  by  a preconceived  idea  than  by  nature.  He 
does  indeed  arrange  a model  before  him,  but  he  does  not  look  at  it.  If  he  were 
to  gaze  at  it,  the  living  being  might  alter  his  preconceived  idea  of  the  myth, 
and  it  is  the  myth  alone  that  concerns  him. 

There  is  a patriotic  idea,  too,  which  has  guided  his  hand  in  the  grand  and 
solemn  outlines  of  his  figures.  To  do  noble  work  was  the  first  ambition  of  his 
youth,  the  first  cry  from  his  heart  to  his  only  master,  the  marbles  of  Phidias. 
Why  to  do  noble  work  ? Because  it  is  more  lovely  than  vulgar  work  ? No! 
Because  it  is  more  honorable  for  England. 

When  Watts  appeared  the  whole  genius  of  the  painters  of  that  day  was  de- 
voted to  painting  in  detail  the  costumes  of  Goldsmith’s  comic  characters,  or 
to  producing  the  gloss  on  the  coat  of  a dog  in  a kennel.  It  might  have  been 
said  that  the  English  had  never  been  moved  by  the  great  scenes  of  history,  or 
by  the  high  ideals  of  philosophy.  And  yet  they  had  a noble  literature,  a lofty 
school  of  poetry  in  no  wise  inferior  to  that  of  other  nations.  Was  it  possible 
that  their  painting  should  continue  to  persuade  the  world  that  only  petty 
pleasures  and  paltry  passions  prevailed  in  the  United  Kingdom  ? No!  At 
any  cost  England  should  have  a heroic  art.  The  painter  might  fail,  but  he 
would  have  shown  at  least  that  if  the  English  are  not  great  artists  they  are 
good  citizens. 

Sometimes  a victory  is  unnecessary,  but  a struggle  is  inevitable.  Watts, 
striving  to  recall  to  life  on  his  canvas  the  mutilated  marbles  of  Phidias,  was 
like  Lord  Cardigan  charging  at  Balaklava.  It  was  a foolish,  unheard  of,  hope- 
less attempt;  success  was  impossible,  and  he  knew  it.  But  the  honor  of  Eng- 
land required  the  attempt  to  be  made  in  the  sight  of  all  nations.  The  general 
threw  his  men  forward  to  their  destruction  on  the  Russian  guns  and  bayonets; 
Watts  paints  his  great  mythological  compositions,  over  which  he  will  spend 
his  life  unsuccessfully. 


[34] 


WATTS 


35 


For  if  we  turn  to  his  work  from  the  consideration  of  his  ideas,  we  shall  ex- 
perience, at  first,  most  painful  surprise  and  profound  disappointment.  He  is 
said  to  draw  with  his  brush  and  to  fix  his  outlines  in  color;  it  is  even  said  that 
he  thus  transfers  the  figure  of  the  model  directly  to  his  composition  without 
any  intermediate  studies,  in  order  not  to  be  influenced  for  too  long  a time  by 
the  real  forms  he  has  under  his  eye.  And  his  drawing  betrays  such  haste.  His 
figures  are  like  great  trees  blown  into  strange  contact  by  the  wind.  They  bend 
and  sway  and  recover  themselves  by  sudden  jerks.  He  mingles  clouds,  grass, 
birds,  rays  of  sunlight,  veils,  scarfs,  folds,  floating  locks,  embraces,  contor- 
tions, and  swoons.  There  is  no  knowing  where  all  these  lines  of  crude  color 
are  going,  whence  they  come,  what  they  mean.  Suddenly  his  figures  turn  half 
of  tbeir  bodies;  the  trunk  turns  for  example,  while  the  legs  remain  stationary 
in  their  first  position.  Forged  in  thick  layers  of  paint,  the  limbs  are  undevel- 
oped and  displeasing.  As  to  the  soft  heavy  draperies,  blue  or  gray  on  glowing 
grounds,  they  twist  and  fold,  and  break  up,  and  divide  into  a thousand  flow- 
ing channels.  There  is  a superfluity  of  folds.  The  robes  are  surplices.  The 
sleeves  are  plaits.  The  colors  are  all  out  of  harmony.  Sometimes  the  violence 
of  one  tone  diminishes  that  of  another,  and  a Venetian  harmony  is  the  result, 
but  that  never  lasts  long.  The  accompanying  colors  are  so  out  of  tune  that,  in 
spite  of  the  beauty  of  the  duet,  the  whole  produces  the  effect  of  a discord,  and 
you  are  ready  to  turn  away,  persuaded  that  there  is  nothing  worth  waiting 
longer  to  listen  to.  And  yet  you  linger,  for  while  Watts’s  color  distracts  the 
eye,  his  ideas  penetrate  to  the  depth  of  the  soul,  and  slowly  arouse  something 
that  was  sleeping  there.  These  myths,  so  laboriously  brought  forth  by  the 
artist,  apart  from  all  picturesque  feeling,  by  the  mere  strength  of  his  character 
and  the  single  energy  of  his  heart,  we  recognize  with  surprise  are  human,  are 
of  the  present  day,  are  alive. 

Some  years  ago,  when  I visited  the  South  Kensington  Museum,  London, 
for  the  first  time,  I took  by  chance  the  staircase  leading  to  the  library.1  At 
that  time  I held  the  conviction  that  mythological  painting  was  a false,  deca- 
dent, commonplace  style;  that  out  of  such  impersonal  figures  as  Death,  jus- 
tice, Time,  and  Love,  nothing  more  could  nowadays  be  made  than  a spiritless 
decoration  for  the  ceilings  of  a public  budding  or  of  a confectioner’s  shop.  I 
then  thought,  like  many  others,  that  to  infuse  fresh  life-blood,  and  moving, 
speaking  feeling,  into  these  myths,  worn  out  by  soaring  into  abstractions,  they 
must  of  necessity  be  metamorphosed  into  portions  of  contemporary  life.  I 
still  held  this  opinion  when  I mounted  the  first  step  of  that  staircase;  by  the 
time  I had  reached  the  last  step  I no  longer  believed  that  mythological  paint- 
ing was  dead.  What  was  there  between  these  two  opinions  ? Two  pictures 
by  Watts. 

It  is  true  that  these  two  myths  were  chosen  from  those  which  lose  nothing 
of  their  fascination  as  the  world  loses  its  sense  of  mystery.  On  one  side  hung 
‘Love  and  Death;’  on  the  other,  ‘Love  and  Life.’  To  attract  our  eyes  with 
curiosity  to  pictures  of  beings  who  have  never  existed,  who  merely  incorpo- 
rate a condition  of  ourselves,  they  must  be  beings  whose  essence  we  ardently 

1 Several  of  Watts’s  pictures,  placed  temporarily  in  the  South  Kensington  Museum,  then  hung  on  the 
walls  of  this  staircase. 


36 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


desire  to  look  into;  and,  if  we  know  that  it  is  wholly  imaginary,  it  is  enough 
if  we  also  know  that  nothing  in  life  is  more  powerful,  more  inevitable,  than 
these  conventional  beings.  Science  and  modern  criticism  have  put  to  flight 
many  allegorical  figures,  and  have  dried  up  many  founts  of  poetry;  but  two 
myths  have  retained  all  their  power  and  fascination  over  us,  Love  and 
Death.  . . . 

As  long  as  love  lasts  poetry  will  live,  even  under  an  abstract  form;  as  long 
as  death  lasts  religion  will  not  die;  and  wishing  to  put  new  life  into  the  myths, 
Watts  chose  the  two  grandest  and  most  attractive  of  them,  those  which  science 
can  neither  explain  away  nor  lessen  to  the  minds  of  men — Love  and  Death. 
But  this  choice  would  not  have  sufficed  had  not  the  master  of  symbolism 
brought  a new  and  deep  feeling  to  his  presentation  of  them  in  default  of  great 
esthetic  qualities. 

Watts  is  the  painter  of  Love  and  Death;  but  not  of  hateful  or  ridiculous 
Death,  of  the  skeleton  let  out  of  an  anatomical  cabinet  who  heads  the  ‘Dance 
of  Death,’  nor  of  that  braggart  and  tricksy  Love,  the  urchin  made  to  be 
whipped,  who  plays  tricks  on  Thorwaldsen’s  nymphs,  or  pricks  M.  Bougue- 
reau’s  young  shepherds  with  paper  arrows.  His  Love  is  manly  and  his  Death 
benevolent.  The  former  sustains  life,  and  the  latter  heals  it.  Llis  winged  god 
is  the  powerful  god  who  makes  hearts  beat  ready  for  sacrifice;  his  veiled  god- 
dess is  the  watchful  mother  who  lulls  the  bodies  of  her  children  to  rest.  And 
when  the  aged  artist,  inspired  by  a touch  of  genius,  represents  this  Love  and 
this  Death  great  as  he  has  conceived  them,  beautiful  as  he  has  made  them, 
such  as  he  has  revived  them,  then  he  reaches  the  climax  of  his  work  and  of  his 
thought.  The  little  Love,  who  fights  like  a sentinel,  who  braces  himself,  who 
refuses  manfully  to  let  the  gloomy  visitor  pass  him  by,  is  noble  and  great;  he 
is  satisfied  that  life  is  a boon  to  him  whom  he  is  protecting;  he  would  preserve 
it  for  him;  he  does  his  duty.  But  great  and  noble  is  this  phantom  also,  which 
advances  so  calmly,  and  which  seems  to  say  to  the  courageous  child,  “You 
know  not  what  you  are  doing.  You  have  accompanied  and  supported  him  in 
rugged  paths;  I will  lead  him  to  the  kingdom  where  there  is  no  more  weari- 
ness. Your  part  is  done;  let  me  accomplish  mine.  You  can  do  less  for  him 
than  I can.  You  dazzle,  but  I enlighten;  you  guide,  but  I gather  in;  you  con- 
sole, but  I cure.” 

One  day  Michelangelo  met  Raphael  with  his  pupils  in  a Roman  garden, 
and  the  old  man  jested  with  the  younger,  saying,  “You  go  about  surrounded 
with  people,  as  if  you  were  the  head  of  an  army.”  “And  you,”  replied  Ra- 
phael, “go  about  alone — like  the  executioner.” 

This  saying  might  be  applied  to  Watts  also;  to  his  art  which  no  man  fol- 
lows, to  the  awe  he  inspires,  to  the  profound  impression  he  makes  on  the  im- 
agination. Thinking  over  all  the  artists  who  work  in  England,  it  is  Watts,  the 
gloomiest  of  them,  who  makes  a mark  on  the  memory.  He  has  painted  noth- 
ing to  amuse  us.  He  has  been  the  executioner  of  all  dreams  of  joy,  of  all  illu- 
sions. Looking  at  him,  as  looking  at  the  executioner,  we  think  of  the  last  hour, 
not  only  of  criminals,  but  of  all  mankind;  of  the  only  inevitable  picture  of  our 
life,  of  what  we  shall  be  then,  and  above  all,  of  what  we  would  have  been. — 
FROM  THE  FRENCH  BY  H.  M.  POYNTER 


[36] 


WATTS 


37 


Cite  Works  of  Ii>atts 

DESCRIPTIONS  OF  THE  PLATES 

‘LOVE  AND  LIFE’  PLATE  I 

THE  truth  which  the  artist  has  sought  to  embody  in  this  picture,”  writes 
Mr.  Edward  T.  Cook,  “is  that  Love — in  its  widest  sense  as  charity, 
sympathy,  unselfishness  — raises  human  life  upward;  that  humanity  in  its 
rugged  path  is  helped  by  tender  aid  on  the  one  hand  and  tender  trust  on  the 
other.  He  has  purposely  kept  the  picture  light  and  simple;  it  is  rich  in  atmos- 
pheric quality,  pervaded  by  an  exquisitely  pearly  opalescent  hue.  The  angel 
of  Love  at  once  supports  and  leads  Life  up  the  rocky  paths  to  the  blue  hills 
beyond,  his  sheltering  wings  shading  the  rays  of  light  from  beating  too  fiercely 
upon  the  frail  form.” 

It  is  said  that  of  all  Watts’s  allegories  this  was  in  his  eyes  the  most  full  of 
significance,  and  considered  by  him  his  most  direct  message  to  the  present 
generation.  One  version  of  the  subject,  now  in  the  Luxembourg  Gallery, 
Paris,  he  gave  to  the  French  nation;  another,  varying  in  some  slight  partic- 
ulars, was  presented  by  him  to  the  United  States,  and  is  now  in  the  White 
House,  Washington;  while  a third,  the  one  here  reproduced,  he  gave  to  the 
National  Gallery  of  British  Art  (Tate  Gallery),  London.  It  measures  about 
seven  feet  two  inches  high  by  nearly  four  feet  wide. 

‘LOVE  AND  DEATH’  PLATE  II 

THE  most  famous  picture  by  Watts,  and  in  some  respects  his  masterpiece, 
is  this  painting  of ‘Love  and  Death.’  The  subject  was  suggested  to  the 
artist  while  painting  the  portrait  of  a young  man  who,  endowed  with  the  best 
of  this  world’s  gifts,  was  to  the  grief  of  his  family  and  friends  slowly  dying  of 
a fatal  disease;  and  as  at  each  sitting  the  painter  saw  more  and  more  plainly 
how  vain  were  the  efforts  of  those  who  loved  him  to  stay  the  hand  of  Death,  he 
conceived  the  idea  which  many  years  later  lound  expression  in  this  picture, 
which  he  himself  has  described  as  “the  progress  of  the  inevitable  but  not  ter- 
rible Death,  who  partially  but  not  completely  overshadows  Love.” 

Death,  a mighty  form  whose  face  we  cannot  see,  draped  in  a robe  of  ashen 
gray,  presses  onward  with  relentless  force  to  the  very  door  of  the  house  of  him 
whom  she  has  come  to  claim,  unheedful  of  Love,  who  meets  her  on  the  thresh- 
old and  struggles  with  all  the  energy  of  despair  to  bar  the  way.  But  the  climb- 
ing rose  that  Love  has  planted  is  rudely  torn  away,  its  petals  are  scattered  upon 
the  ground,  and  Love’s  brilliant  wings  are  crushed,  and  his  fair  form  dark- 
ened by  the  shadow  of  Death,  who  in  another  second  will  have  passed  beyond 
him  into  the  room. 

One  version  of  this  picture  was  presented  by  the  artist  to  the  city  of  Man- 
chester, England,  and  another,  the  one  here  reproduced,  to  the  English  na- 
tion. This  canvas  is  in  the  National  Gallery  of  British  Art  (Tate  Gallery), 
London.  It  measures  about  eight  feet  high  by  four  feet  wide. 


[37] 


38 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


‘DIANA  AND  ENDYMION  ’ PLATE  III 

CLASSIC  legend,”  writes  Cosmo  Monkhouse,  “supplied  Watts  with  the 
subjects  for  perhaps  his  most  perfect  pictures,  but  although  as  a student 
of  the  dead  rather  than  a rival  of  the  living  he  is  above  all  indebted  to  the 
Greeks,  it  is  the  art  of  Venice  more  that  than  of  Athens  of  which  we  are  re- 
minded in  his  lovely  vision  of  ‘ Diana  and  Endymion.’” 

With  exquisite  grace  Watts  has  here  portrayed  the  young  Greek  shepherd, 
who,  sleeping  on  Mount  Latmos,  charmed  with  his  beauty  the  cold  heart  of 
Diana.  Robed  in  diaphanous  garments  of  pale,  silvery  blue,  the  goddess  of 
the  moon  bends  down  from  heaven  to  kiss  Endymion,  lulling  him  into  an  eter- 
nal sleep.  The  idea  of  the  crescent  moon  has  been  subtly  suggested  by  the 
painter  in  the  curve  of  the  hovering  figure  of  Diana  and  in  the  cool  silvery 
hues  of  her  drapery  and  the  light  gold  of  her  hair.  “ For  grace  of  line,  classic 
beauty  of  form,  and  charm  of  mystery,”  writes  Mr.  Spielmann,  “Watts  has 
rarely  surpassed  this  work.” 

The  picture  is  now  in  a private  collection  in  England. 

‘PORTRAIT  OF  MRS.  PERCY  WYNDHAM’  PLATE  IV 

ALTHOUGH  Watts  was,  generally  speaking,  less  successful  in  his  repre- 
k.  sentations  of  women  than  of  men,  a notable  exception  is  offered  in  his 
portrait  of  Mrs.  Percy  Wyndham,  which  is  regarded  not  only  as  the  finest  of 
his  achievements  in  this  special  line,  but  as  one  of  the  finest  women’s  portraits 
painted  in  modern  times.  “ It  has,”  writes  Mr.  Quilter,  “all  the  magnificence 
of  action  and  surrounding  of  Carolus  Duran’s  work,  with  a power  of  color  and 
a simple  dignity  to  which  the  French  artist  could  never  attain.” 

Mrs.  Percy  Wyndham,  dressed  in  a rich  green  robe  cut  low  in  the  neck, 
about  which  is  draped  some  soft  white  material,  stands  against  a background 
of  laurel  branches.  Her  hair  is  dark  and  her  complexion  clear  and  pale.  One 
elbow  rests  upon  a garden  balustrade,  and  at  her  feet  is  a large  open  vase  of 
dull  red  filled  with  creamy  white  magnolia  blossoms  and  brown  and  green 
leaves.  “With  the  exception  of  these  flowers  and  of  the  flesh-tints,”  writes  Sir 
Walter  Armstrong,  “the  general  effect  is  that  of  a symphony  in  green.  I can,” 
he  adds,  “ recall  no  modern  portrait  which  is  so  striking  in  the  dignity  of  pose, 
freedom  of  drawing,  and  rich  harmony  of  color.” 

The  portrait,  which  is  here  reproduced  by  permission  of  Mrs.  Wyndham, 
is  life-sized.  When  first  shown  at  the  Grosvenor  Gallery,  London,  it  was 
pronounced  “one  of  the  triumphs  of  the  exhibition.”  It  is  owned  by  the 
Hon.  Percy  Wyndham,  Salisbury,  England. 

1 HOPE ’ PLATE  V 

ONE  of  the  most  poetic  of  Watts’s  ideal  subjects  is  this  picture  of ‘Hope’ 
seated  with  her  lyre  in  her  hand,  blindfold,  upon  the  globe.  In  the  dim 
twilight  her  robe  of  palest  green  gleams  almost  white  against  the  evening  sky, 
the  coloring  and  the  delicate  lines  of  the  drapery  investing  the  figure  with  a 
dream-like  aspect.  Surely  never  was  there  a sadder,  more  pathetic  Hope,  nor 
one  seemingly  more  closely  akin  to  Despair!  But  bending  over  her  lyre  to 

[381 


WATTS 


39 


catch  the  faint  sound  of  the  melody  for  which  she  yearns,  “she  strives” — the 
words  are  the  painter’s — “to  get  all  the  music  out  of  the  last  remaining  string,” 
while  in  the  sky  there  shines  a single  star  prophetic  of  brightness  to  come. 

The  picture  was  painted  in  1885.  Twelve  years  later  it  was  presented  by 
Watts  to  the  English  nation,  and  is  now  in  the  National  Gallery  of  British  Art 
(Tate  Gallery),  London.  It  measures  about  four  feet  seven  inches  high  by 
three  feet  wide. 

‘Ganymede’  plate  vi 

A MONG  the  pictures  of  children  which  Watts  has  painted,  none  is  more 
ii  charming  than  this  representation  of  the  youthful  Ganymede,  the  cup- 
bearer of  Zeus,  who  was  borne  from  earth  to  Olympus,  the  abode  of  the  gods, 
by  an  eagle — or,  as  one  version  of  the  story  has  it,  by  Zeus  himself  in  the  form 
of  an  eagle  — and  there  endowed  with  immortality. 

Watts  has  painted  him  with  dark  curly  hair  and  large  wondering  eyes,  hold- 
ing in  one  hand  a bunch  of  ripe  grapes,  and  in  the  other  a cup.  The  head  of 
the  eagle  is  seen  at  the  left  of  the  picture,  while  one  wing  of  the  bird  extends 
behind  the  boy’s  naked  shoulder.  Ganymede’s  draperies  are  deep  red,  and 
the  whole  color-scheme  is  rich  and  harmonious. 

The  picture  was  one  of  the  collection  of  works  in  the  artist’s  possession 
at  Little  Holland  House. 

‘SIR  GALAHAD’  PLATE  VII 

l 

ONE  of  the  most  popular  pictures  by  Watts  is  this  representation  of  Sir 
Galahad,  the  knight  of  King  Arthur’s  Round  Table  so  spotless  in  his 
perfect  purity  that  to  his  sight  was  revealed  the  Holy  Grail,  that  mystic  chalice 
which  contained  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  to  him  alone  was  success  vouchsafed 
in  its  quest. 

In  Watts’s  painting  Sir  Galahad  has  dismounted  from  his  horse  and  stands 
in  an  attitude  of  devotion,  as  if  already  through  the  forest  shades  he  saw  the 
heavenly  vision.  The  woody  background  and  tangled  vegetation,  the  figure 
of  the  knight  with  his  auburn  hair  and  dark  armor,  and  with  his  snow-white 
horse  beside  him,  are  well  rendered;  but,  as  in  all  the  artist’s  works,  it  is  the 
underlying  idea  which  is  emphasized  rather  than  any  technical  merits  or  de- 
fects, and  in  Sir  Galahad,  the  knight  “who  knew  no  fear,”  Watts  has  given  us 
an  impersonation  of  youthful  fervor,  of  manly  purity,  and  the  inspiration  of 
a great  ideal. 

There  are  two  versions  of  this  picture,  one  of  which,  the  earlier  and  less  fin- 
ished, was  given  by  the  artist  to  Eton  College,  England,  where  it  hangs  in  the 
college  chapel;  the  other,  which  is  here  reproduced,  is  owned  by  Alexander 
Henderson,  Esq.,  London. 

‘PORTRAIT  OF  CARDINAL  MANNING'  PLATE  V III 

THIS  portrait  is  one  of  the  most  striking  of  that  great  series  of  represen- 
tations of  distinguished  men  painted  by  Watts  and  presented  by  him  to 
the  English  nation.  Cardinal  Manning  is  here  shown  seated  in  a carved  arm- 


40 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


chair,  wearing  the  red  cope  and  biretta,  or  cap,  and  the  white  lace  robe  of  his 
office.  1 he  emaciated  face  with  its  lofty  brow,  delicate  features,  sunken 
cheeks,  and  clear  gray  eyes  — the  face  of  an  ascetic — is  marked  with  intel- 
lectual power. 

Cardinal  Manning  was  one  of  the  most  notable  characters  of  his  day,  occu- 
pying for  many  years  a prominent  position  in  the  religious,  literary,  social,  and 
political  world  of  England  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Born  in  1808,  he  was, 
after  graduating  from  Oxford,  ordained  in  the  English  Church,  but  in  1851 
was  received  into  tht  Church  of  Rome.  After  various  promotions  he  was  con- 
secrated archbishop  of  Westminster,  and,  finally,  in  1875,  created  a cardinal. 

1 his  portrait  was  painted  in  1882,  when  he  was  seventy-four  years  old.  It 
measures  about  three  feet  high  by  two  feet  three  inches  wide,  and  is  in  the 
National  Portrait  Gallery,  London. 

‘PORTRAIT  OF  ALFRED,  LORD  TENNYSON’  PLATE  IX 

OF  the  many  portraits  which  Watts  painted  of  Tennyson,  who  was  among 
his  closest  friends,  the  one  in  the  possession  of  Lady  Henry  Somerset,  at 
Eastnor  Park,  England,  and  here  reproduced,  is  regarded  as  the  finest.  It 
was  painted  in  1859,  when  the  poet  was  fifty  years  old  and  in  the  full  maturity 
of  his  powers. 

Tennyson,  as  is  well  known,  was  a man  of  powerful  build  and  great  phys- 
ical beauty — “one  of  the  finest  looking  men  in  the  world,”  Carlyle  wrote  in 
describing  him  to  Emerson  in  1840;  “a  great  shock  of  dusky  hair,  bright, 
laughing  hazel  eyes,  massive  aquiline  face — most  massive  yet  most  delicate.” 
This  portrait  of  him  by  Watts,  which  from  a certain  dreamy  quality  it  pos- 
sesses, suggestive  of  the  poetic  glamour  of  moonlight,  is  known  as  “the  great 
moonlight  portrait,”  calls  to  mind  the  poet’s  own  lines  in  which  he  embalmed 
the  substance  of  a reply  given  by  Watts  in  response  to  his  request  that  the 
artist  would  describe  his  ideal  of  what  a true  portrait-painter  should  be: 

“As  when  a painter,  poring  on  a face. 

Divinely,  through  all  hindrance,  finds  the  man 
Behind  it,  and  so  paints  him  that  his  face. 

The  shape  and  color  of  a mind  and  life. 

Lives  for  his  children,  ever  at  its  best.” 

‘ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE’  PLATE  X 

AMONG  those  paintings  suggested  to  the  artist’s  mind  by  classical  myths, 

- this  picture  of ‘Orpheus  and  Eurydice,’  which  formed  part  of  the  collec- 
tion of  works  in  his  gallery  at  Little  Holland  House,  is  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful. Watts  painted  two  quite  different  versions  of  the  subject,  of  which  the 
one  here  represented  is  the  earlier;  in  the  other,  the  figures  are  full-length,  and 
in  the  treatment  it  is  more  dramatic,  but  in  both  versions  the  moment  chosen 
by  the  artist  is  the  same — that  pathetic  moment  when  Orpheus,  Apollo’s  son, 
having  descended  into  the  regions  of  the  dead,  and  by  the  power  of  the  music 
of  his  lyre  persuaded  Pluto  to  restore  to  life  his  lost  Eurydice,  sees  the  beloved 

[40] 


WATTS 


41 


form  sink  back  into  death  because  he  had  violated  the  sole  condition  upon 
which  his  prayer  had  been  granted — that  until  he  had  with  Eurydice  reached 
once  more  the  upper  world  he  should  not  turn  to  look  upon  her  face. 

A LIST  OF  THE  PRINCIPAL  PAINTINGS  BY  WATTS 
IN  PUBLIC  COLLECTIONS 

A LARGE  number  of  pictures  by  the  late  George  Frederick  Watts  belong  to  the  col- 
lection in  the  artist’s  gallery  of  his  works  at  Little  Holland  House,  London,  and  in  his 
studio  at  Limnerslease,  Surrey.  A comparatively  small  number  are  in  private  possession. 
The  following  list  includes  only  such  as  have  already  been  placed  in  public  collections,  with 
the  addition  of  the  version  of  ‘Love  and  Life,’  now  in  the  White  House  at  Washington, 
D.  C.,  which  was  presented  to  the  United  States  by  Mr.  Watts. 

ENGLAND.  Cambridge,  Trinity  College:  Portrait  of  Lord  Tennyson — Eton 
College,  Chapel:  Sir  Galahad  — Leicester,  Town  Hall:  Fata  Morgana  — Lon- 
don, Houses  of  Parliament,  Upper  Waiting  Hall:  St.  George  and  the  Dragon  (fresco) 
— London,  Lincoln’s  Inn,  Great  Hall:  School  of  Legislature  (fresco) — London, 
National  Gallery  of  British  Art:  Death  Crowning  Innocence;  Mammon;  The  Mes- 
senger; Eve  Tempted;  ‘She  shall  be  called  Woman;’  Eve  Repentant;  Dray  Horses;  The 
Spirit  of  Christianity;  Hope  (Plate  v);  ‘For  he  had  great  Possessions;’  Jonah;  The  Dweller 
in  the  Innermost;  ‘Sic  transit  Gloria  Mundi;’  The  All-Pervading;  Love  and  Life  (Plate  i); 
Love  Triumphant;  Love  and  Death  (Plate  n);  Time,  Death,  and  Judgment;  Chaos;  Faith; 
The  Minotaur;  Psyche;  Life’s  Illusions;  Portrait  of  Watts  — London,  National  Por- 
trait Gallery:  Sir  Henry  Taylor;  Sir  Anthony  Panizzi;  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti; 
William  Morris;  Matthew  Arnold;  Robert  Browning;  Lord  Tennyson;  Cardinal  Man- 
ning (Plate  VI 1 1 ) ; John  Stuart  Mill;  Lord  Lawrence;  Thomas  Carlyle;  Lord  Lytton;  Lord 
Sherbrooke;  Lord  Lyndhurst;  Earl  of  Shaftsbury;  Earl  Russell;  Rt.  Hon.  Friedrich  Max- 
Miiller;  W.  E.  Gladstone;  Lord  Leighton;  Dr.  Martineau;  Lord  Stratford  de  Redclifte; 
Lord  Lyons;  Sir  Andrew  Clark;  Sir  John  Peter  Grant;  Sir  Charles  Halle;  Duke  of  Argyll 
— London,  St.  Paul’s  Cathedral:  Time,  Death,  and  Judgment  — London,  South 
Kensington  Museum:  Head  of  Lorenzo  de’  Medici  (fresco);  Figures  and  Heads  (frescos) 
— Manchester,  Art  Gallery:  Love  and  Death;  The  Good  Samaritan  — FRANCE. 
Paris,  Luxembourg  Gallery:  Love  and  Life  — GERMANY.  Munich,  Neue  Pina- 
kothek:  The  Happy  Warrior  — ITALY.  Florence,  Uffizi  Gallery:  Portrait  of 
Watts  — UNITED  STATES.  Washington,  D.  C.,  The  White  House:  Love  and 
Life. 


iyatts  JatMtograpl))* 

A LIST  OF  THE  PRINCIPAL  BOOKS  AND  MAGAZINE  ARTICLES 
DEALING  WITH  WATTS 

A FULL  and  complete  biography  of  Watts  has  yet  to  be  written.  Dr.  Hugh  Mac- 
millan’s ‘Life-work  of  George  Frederick  Watts’  (London,  1903)  and  a monograph 
of  the  artist  by  Julia  Cartwright  (London,  1896)  are  interesting  studies,  as  is  also  Gilbert 
Keith  Chesterton’s  more  recent  volume  ‘G.  F.  Watts’  (London,  1904). 

ATKINSON,  J.  Beavington  and  OTHERS.  English  Painters  of  the  Present  Day. 

London,  1871 — Barrington,  E.  I.  Catalogue  of  Paintings  by  Watts  on  Exhibi- 
tion at  the  Museum  of  Art,  New  York — Bateman,  C.  T.  Watts.  London,  1901  — 
Cartwright,  J.  Life  and  Works  of  George  Frederick  Watts.  London,  1896- — Ches- 

r 4 1 j 


42 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


neau,  E.  The  English  School  of  Painting:  Trans,  by  L.  N.  Etherington.  London,  1885 
— Chesterton,  G.  K.  G.  F.  Watts.  London,  1904  — Cook,  E.  T.  A Handbook  to 
the  Tate  Gallery.  London,  1898  — Forsyth,  P.  T.  Religion  in  Recent  Art.  London, 
1889  — Hartley,  C.  G.  Pictures  in  the  Tate  Gallery.  New  York,  1905  — La  Sizeranne, 
R.  de.  English  Contemporary  Art:  Trans,  by  H.  M.  Poynter.  New  York,  1898  — 
Macmillan,  H.  The  Life-work  of  George  Frederick  Watts.  London,  1903  — Mac- 
Coll,  D.  S.  Nineteenth  Century  Art.  Glasgow,  1902  — Monkhouse,  C.  British  Con- 
temporary Artists.  New  York,  1899  — Muther,  R.  History  of  Modern  Painting.  New 
York,  1896  — Quilter,  H.  Preferences  in  Art.  London,  1892  — Ruskin,  J.  The  Art 
of  England.  Orpington,  1884  — Sketchley,  R.  F.  D.  Watts.  London,  1904. 

magazine  articles 

ACADEMY,  1882:  F.  Wedmore;  Exhibition  of  the  Work  of  Watts.  1904:  H.  Mac- 
_ fall;  G.  F.  Watts — L’Art,  1882:  W.  Armstrong;  George  Frederick  Watts  — Art 
Journal,  1884:  Anonymous;  G.  F.  Watts.  1904:  L.  Lusk;  G.  F.  W atts’  Type  of  Beauty 
— Athenaeum,  1904:  Anonymous;  G.  F.  Watts  — Bookman,  1901:  G.  Chesterton  and 
J.  E.  Hodder  Williams;  Literary  Portraits  of  Watts  — Brush  and  Pencil,  1904:  G.  L. 
Graham;  George  Frederick  Watts — Burlington  Magazine,  i 904:  Anonymous;  George 
Frederick  Watts  — Century,  1883:  G.  W.  Prothero;  Mr.  Watts  at  the  Grosvenor  Gal- 
lery — Contemporary  Review,  1882:  H.  Quilter;  The  Art  of  Watts  — Cosmopolitan, 
1893:  G.  Campbell;  Four  Famous  Artists  — Critic,  1884:  K.  Cox;  A Word  for  the 
Watts  Collection.  1903:  C.  Brinton;  Watts  and  Ideal  Portraiture — Fortnightly  Re- 
view, 1897:  H.  H.  Statham;  Leighton  and  Watts.  1900:  A.  Symons;  The  Art  of  Waits 
— Harper’s  Magazine,  1885:  F.  D.  Millet;  The  Watts  Exhibition  — International 
Studio,  1903:  B.  Erskine;  Watts’  Portraits  at  Holland  House  — L’Italia  Moderna, 
1904:  D.  Angeli;  G.  F.  Watts  — Kunst  unserer  Zeit,  1892:  H.  Zimmern;  George 
Frederick  Watts  — London  Quarterly  Review,  1882:  Anonymous;  Exhibition  of 
Works  of  G.  F.  Watts — Magazine  of  Art, 1878:  W.  Meynell;  Our  Living  Artists. 
1882:  C.  Monkhouse;  The  Watts  Exhibition.  1897:  M.  H.  Spielmann;  George  Frederick 
Watts — Monthly  Review,  1904:  J.  Cartwright;  George  Frederic  Watts  — Nation, 
1884:  W.  J.  Stillman;  The  Watts  Exhibition.  1884:  Anonymous;  Two  Articles  on  the 
Watts  Exhibition  — Nineteenth  Century,  1883:  E.  I.  Barrington;  The  Painted  Poetry 
of  Watts  and  Rossetti.  1897:  M H.  Spielmann;  Mr.  G.  F.  Watts:  His  Art  and  His 
Mission — North  American  Review,  1904:  R.  Cortissoz;  George  Frederick  Watts. — 
Outlook,  1904:  Windsor;  Mr.  G.  F.  Watts  — Pall  Mall  Gazette  Extra,  1886: 
M.  H.  Spielmann;  Works  of  Mr.  G.  F.  Watts  — Pall  Mall  Magazine,  i 904:  H.  Beg- 
bie;  Master  Workers — Portfolio,  1887:  F.  S.  Stephens;  George  Frederick  Watts  — 
Review  of  Reviews,  1902:  W.  T.  Stead;  England’s  Greatest  Living  Artist,  George 
Frederick  Watts — Saturday  Review, 1882:  Anonymous;  The  Watts  Exhibition.  1897: 
D.  S.  M.;  Mr.  Watts’  Pictures  (in  two  parts).  1904:  D.  S.  MacColl;  G.  F.  Watts  — 
Scribner’s  Magazine,  1894:  C.  Monkhouse;  George  Frederick  Watts.  1904:  C.  H. 
Caffin;  George  Frederick  Watts.  1904:  F.  Fowler;  Watts,  a Painter  of  Portraits  — 
Sewanee  Review,  1904:  G.  B.  Rose;  George  Frederick  Watts  — Spectator,  1904: 
Anonymous;  George  Frederick  Watts  — Sunday  Magazine,  1894:  L.  T.  Meade;  The 
Painter  of  the  Eternal  Truths. 


[42] 


MASTERS  IN  ART 


fiiLljrfft 

Cti&  6s  3 

i i s S ai 

C ir  S as  a,  S 


B9JST9D  P\ftSS 


THERE  is  no  hotel  quite  like  The  Somerset  — fas- 
tidiously appointed  with  every  known  requisite 
for  comfort,  safety,  and  enjoyment,  delightfully 
located  in  Boston’s  exclusive  residential 
Back  Bay  section,  accessible  to  rail- 
way  stations,  places  of  amuse-  it-s  3 
1 ment,  shopping  centers  (ten  min-  ■ 

M utes’  ride  by  electrics),  yet  free  \ 

Mm  from  the  noise  and  disagreeable 
JKm  features  of  city  hotel  life.  You  will 
find  and  enjoy  here  the  atmosphere 
W of  home  surroundings  on  a magnificent  scale, 

’ “A  dinner  at  The  Somerset”  while  passing  1 
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page  of  this  issue.  The  1905  Volume  began  with 

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VOL.  3. 

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\ Drawing j 

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This  illustration  is  one  of  a series  of  over  100  beautiful  photogravures 
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